That Butcher's Boy
by shshshsharina
Summary: Some things that happen are unavoidable, but occasionally, it can be hard to remember that. Sometimes all she can do when everything stops is think about the boy who was her friend.


That Butcher's Boy

She rolled over in on the grass. She didn't usually feel like a child anymore, because of everything she had already been through, but this was that one situation where pretending to be all grown up was out of the question. She had remained strong before this, but her resolve had broken through the night.

Her dreams had been vivid. Filled with blood of the innocent. She couldn't blame anyone but herself. Well, she could blame a slew of people, but she couldn't find it within herself to. He would have never been in that position if she hadn't been so foolish.

Her eyes watered unreasonably. It was ridiculous. She shouldn't have felt like this. She had already grieved once, after her father had gently informed her what had happened. And he had told her that it wasn't her fault. It was the Hound's and Queen Cersei's.

What good would it do her to grieve more? What would make her life better? What could possibly eliminate the guilt that coursed through her body when her mind allowed her to?

But that wasn't enough. She could only imagine the surprise turning into hysteria when his father was given crudely chopped pieces of what he thought was a pig until he was informed of his son's murder. Her body shook and she shut her eyes tightly, not wanting the tears to fall.

They were friends. As ugly as he was, as smelly as he was, he was her friend. And they were adventurers together. She had felt so utterly alone without all her family, stuck with only Sansa and her father. Sansa was simply Sansa, and her father tried to understand her, but they both were not the same as the rapport she developed with the dirty butcher boy. He obliged her often with practicing being a hero. She had no one else to whack with a play sword, so he let her.

_But he wasn't just gross. He was nice and didn't go around m'ladying me. He was my friend._

She treated that simple phrase like a mantra. He was her friend. He was her friend. And because he was her friend, she would kill the man who killed him.

She rolled over to her other side when she heard someone's loud foot falls approaching to see who was coming to her. It was Gendry, probably ready to tell her something stupid. Everything was stupid nowadays. At times, she wished she had just left him and Hot Pie in Harrenhal, considering Hot Pie was no longer with them anyway. She was losing her pack and all she had left was the bastard smith who made her forget sometimes about missing Jon Snow. When would he leave her? She knew deep down that even though her friend had promised to stay with her he would leave. Gendry was just like the rest of them too.

She wondered what it would have been like having Mycah with them. Would he have gotten along with Gendry? Or Jon Snow? Or Hot Pie? Who could know? He probably would have died anyway, long before they even encountered the Gold Cloaks, and before Yoren was slain. But that wasn't all. He died in the time that seemed like ages before anything of real importance had happened. He had died because of her and she simply forgot, moving on to prance around with the lessons Syrio taught her. How quick she was to stop feeling the guilt back then. It was so easy for her it seemed. It wasn't until her life became hard that she even thought of him again. How selfish could she possibly be? How dare she? She sniffled softly, feeling sorry for herself.

Abruptly, she sat up, feeling a blush come over her suddenly. Her mind darted to the one thing she didn't really want to remember. Somewhere along her adventures on the Trident, she had slipped on a rock and fell on her bottom. The slightly older Mycah had extended a hand to her, and without thinking, she had taken it. A moment later he had kissed her cheek and raced off. She remember turning red afterward, a mix of embarrassment and hot anger, and getting up to chase him down and whack him mercilessly with her wooden stick a few times. He was laughing and she was shouting at him, with whatever obscenities she had in her vocabulary. When she stopped, he raced away. She had caught up with him and they continued their adventures, the peck forgotten.

It had meant no harm, she knew, but at the time it was horrible. She never wanted to be kissed again. And now she knew she must have been distorting her memories, because though she knew how ugly and smelly the boy had been, she would give anything for one more minute with that butcher's boy. She would even let him kiss her cheek again in that moment.

_Was that love? _she wondered. Probably not, she had already decided, but it was some feeling she wasn't used to. Would she ever understand? That answer was probably not as well.

Gendry plopped down next to her. "What you thinking about?"

She was surprised that he had just come over to chat. There was, however, too much she didn't want to tell him. She just wasn't ready. She shrugged. "Nothing," she murmured.

"Aye, m'lady."

She pushed him hard and he fell over.


End file.
